Professional irony consultant.

My passion is music journalism, library management, blogging, and guest lecturing now and again. But I pay the rent by developing apps.

My office is a convenient 1/2 mile from The Manor where I reside with my fiance. Our home is a humble upper but is fully-decorated in Victorian splendor.

I am simultaneously unbelievable, ridiculous, and fabulous.

I wish I had enough room to sig this entire post. You sir are a true character. I love it.

Dude get him to make your app.. $$$

I want 10% for thinking of this brilliant idea.

To add further absurdity to my character - I live unabashedly isolated from contemporary culture. Other than runs up to the grocer and the one or two people at my office, I really have no interaction with the outside world. (Because internet.)

Even my web travels are limited to the import vinyl market, antiquarian lit, and music research. I see not a minute of commercial advertising - no print ads, billboards, commercials (no TV since 1999), no radio, and as a result, I've no concept of contemporary vernacular, music or fashion.

...I honestly have no idea what you people are doing.

Why are you here?

I think he's going back in time. IB may have found the trick to time travel.

OH GOD YEAH!

Innerspaceboy, you want to hear my idea for an app?

I would love nothing more than to hear your app ideas. Would you like to hear my brilliant idea for an independent film?

Both of those things will happen right now through PM. There are thieves about.

who you callin thief?

Batlord mostly. Then again, I've called him a lot worse.

You really think that Batlord has the follow through to write out your movie idea or develop an app? He can't even finish a sandwich.

We both know that is a lie.

I forgot to add 'making' to that sentence. I'll bet his mother finishes his poor attempts at resolving his hunger like a big boy.

Can I make you a playlist

ohhohohoho,that's where you are mistaken my friend. He's got no problem getting to the bottom of a jar of Jiff or a loaf of bread.

But can he put them together without help? I think he'd resort to trading off bites of bread and spoonfuls of peanut butter to create a bastardized version of the sandwich experience before taking five minutes to have the real thing.

http://i.imgur.com/WeFgPi9.jpg

I am in need of a haircut very badly.

Why are you doing boob pose? You are without boobs.

If I were 20 years younger.....well, wait that would make you the pervert....

Soo want some candy?

Not trying to. Didn't even know that was a thing.

Oh boy candy?!

Moober!^.

Lol. Bye.

Absolutely!

I was actually surprised and delighted when my fiance put together a birthday playlist for me yesterday featuring such hits as Stockhausen's "Aus Den Sieben Tagen / Fais Voile Vers Le Soleil Liason", Riley's more recent "Journey From the Death of a Friend", and the opening track from Delia Derbyshire and Brian Hodgson's collaborative debut as White Noise.

Mixtape chops was a strict criteria of mine for marriage proposal.

You have great GPS.

Lol boob pose. You should spike your hair Machine..

http://qph.is.quoracdn.net/main-qimg...t_to_webp=true

With my curly hair? Hmmm I think it'd look ****ing horrid on me.

Don't listen to him, Im telling you, if you were older maaaan...

They make straighteners...

I'd respond to Exo and Frownland, but I'm balls deep into one of Frowny's twelve-hour albums, and my mind is consumed only by hate and delirious indifference.

We find you delightfully amusing. If you weren't so clearly eccentric, we'd assume you were trolling us. We wouldn't trade you for anything.

Gosh darn

That's true.

Whats with the love fest? Who spiked your boones farm?^

This phone!!This was for the bat.

A.) I've been drinking, and B.) **** Frownland's music.

Like making love or a one night stand type of ****?

I'm high as ****, so come here let me hug you.... I'll let you touch me from a distance.

He wants to hit it and quit it bruh.

Like a hatefuck with choking and face slapping and spitting in your mouth.

All I want is a gun and a target.

Eww you spit in women's mouths, and you wonder why they never call you the next day.